


The Indications, and Tally of Time

by flickerjax (Stone_Princess)



Category: The Rifter - Ginn Hale
Genre: Backstory, Canon Related, M/M, Post canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:38:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Princess/pseuds/flickerjax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post canon, some time in Basawar, after the Christmas scene. Kahlil tells John something about Ravishan's past and confirms their future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Indications, and Tally of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thank yous aren't enough for Rhiannonhero, I owe her so much more, but all I have is words, so you should just know that she is a wonderful friend, a wonderful editor and an amazing editor. Everyone should be lucky enough to have someone like her. Of course she did give me this book to read and I do lightly curse her because I still Can't think of anything else but John and Ravishan. All mistakes are my own. The characters and universe is from Ginn Hale, bless her for it, I love it so much I want to live in it all the time. A nod to Walt Whitman for the title.

* * *

Traveling by boat would have been unbearable for Kahlil if John hadn't been there. The time it took to get anywhere wasn't the worst part, though that wore on his nerves. No, it was being trapped in such a small space that really got under his skin. Plus it was getting steadily colder as they got further north. Kahlil spent as much time as he could helping the crew, learning the rigging, steering and all the lesser functions of sailing the boat. He trained the younger men in battleforms because they asked, because it was something to do, because it was the only way to get exercise trapped on the ocean.

John spent most of his time wrapped up with his ancient botanical tomes, or cataloging the things they'd found on the Southern islands, creating his own giant book of natural wonders. It reminded Kahlil of a movie he'd seen in Nayeshi, about a naturalist and a Naval Captain on a boat some time in the past. Except that those guys never did the things John and Kahlil did in their cabin, though Kahlil had thought at the time that the Captain and naturalist's violin playing sessions seemed quite sexually charged.

Nights were chilly but they were cozy and happy curled up in the cabin's big bed with John showing Kahlil what he'd done that day, or Kahlil explaining something new he'd learned about sailing or something interesting he'd heard from a crew member. Mostly they told stories to pass the time. Kahlil thought there wasn't much he didn't know about John, he'd watched him grow up, after all, but John had 27 years of history that Kahlil had missed, and he had hours and days and weeks that they hadn't spent together when the Fai'daum war broke out all those years ago. Kahlil was determined to know everything, no matter how hard it was to get John to talk sometimes. In return he told stories about Nayeshi, making them comic for John's entertainment and to shield him from the loneliness Kahlil had felt there, especially in the early years. He also told stories about Ravishan's youth, before John came to Basawar. Tonight John had asked him how he’d known he preferred men.

"Did you always know?" John pressed. Kahlil had resolved to never keep anything from John, but some stories he couldn't put a comedic spin on. Some were just what they were and a part of Kahlil hated sharing those dark times with John. Not because he was embarrassed or saddened by them, just John had enough of his own darkness and pain already, he didn't need to bear Kahlil's as well. Kahlil closed his eyes for second, remembering those grim years in Rathal'pesha. When he opened them, John was gazing at him intently.

"You don't have to tell me if it's too hard," John murmured.

"No, I'm just remembering. It was like a different life." Kahlil smiled at his own joke. It was all his life, but still it wasn't easy to explain to everyone else how he comfortably carried the memories of both timelines. "Let's see. I guess I always knew. Or I realized as soon as I knew something was different about me. When I was young, maybe 9 or 10 some of the older ushiri'im told me about girls and sex. They told me I was too young and would understand when I got older. But when I reached puberty everything they'd explained to me, well that was how I felt about boys. Girls seemed like an unreal, distant thing, only sisters and mothers, not this feeling I had in my pants. I thought maybe something was wrong with me. Or maybe it was because I grew up in a monastery where there were no girls. The ones I saw the few times I was in Amura'taye at the fair or in the market just seemed strange to me, with their silent laughter and flowery perfumes."

John nodded in understanding. Kahlil felt it against his shoulder, where John had curled against him when he started the story.

"Most everyone else was older when they came to Rathal'pesha," Kahlil went on, "so they'd experienced more of the world. I decided when I was about 15 that I just needed a girl to set me straight. I went to Candle Alley to find one. That place wasn't much of a secret, the older ushiri'im had whispered about it to me, some bragging about all the girls who wanted them because they were so holy. But when I got there the girls didn't interest me at all, they just seemed scary and sad. Instead I found a boy, about my age, and I definitely felt something when he put his hand on me. I thought I'd die of how good I felt when he took me out of my pants. He rubbed me a little until I was so hard I was seeing stars and then he pressed us together and he came when I did. Which seemed right to me because I understood sex was something you did with another person, not to another person. Still, it was impersonal."

"Just functional," John murmured.

"I didn't really understand then, I had no frame of reference, but yes, just functional. There was no romance or love in it. I didn't think I knew anything about either of those things until after I got to Nayeshi. Anyway, after that boy in Candle Alley, something changed. I can't say exactly what, but I felt different."

"Grown up?" John asked.

"Yes, but not exactly. I'd been told you weren't a man until you'd had sex. I'd had sex but I knew I couldn't tell anyone, even though, after that, I thought about sex all the time. I never really looked at the other ushiri'im. I knew they went to Candle Alley and I was naïve enough to assume that's just how it was done. I touched myself, sometimes, but it's hard when you sleep in a room full of other people and when your whole day is structured training. There weren't very many times I could sneak off, but I did manage it 2 or 3 more times. I never saw that first boy again but there was always another man my age there. Finally Dayyid caught me. I think another ushiri saw me there and reported it? I don't know, maybe Dayyid was following me. He beat me badly and told me I was a pervert and wrong and dirty, but I knew my bones were holy, and I had already decided that Parfir had made me this way. I didn't know why but I thought it must have been for some important reason. And because Dayyid didn't kill me, he kept training me, I assumed I was safe. Or as safe as anyone could be in that place."

Kahlil felt John nod again in understanding. He paused and pulled the blanket around them. He'd be glad when they got back home where huge fires kept their apartments toasty warm. Just talking about Rathal'pesha reminded him of how cold and unforgiving it had been to live there. Kahlil much preferred the comforts of this life, though anything was bearable with John by his side.

"I thought I was special," Kahlil continued. "Everyone at Rathal'pesha knew I was the best candidate to become Khalil, I knew it, so how could something be wrong with me? The second time Dayyid caught me he took my braids and publicly humiliated me, but it didn't matter anymore. I was determined to be Khalil and I didn't think Dayyid could hurt me any more than he already had." It was strange how removed from it Kahlil was now. The memories weren't as painful as they'd once been. Time perhaps, or just knowing that all of that was gone, wiped from the face of this earth.

"That was right before you met me."

Kahlil smiled, remembering his shorn, young self finding John in the woods, knowing John was there just for him. "Yes, in your timeline. But in the other I kept going back to Candle Alley when I could. It wasn't very often. Usually at the Harvest Fair and maybe a couple other times a year I could sneak away long enough. When Dayyid caught me again, he cut me." Kahlil traced his finger from his mouth to his ear. "No one would bear the wound, or Dayyid would not let them, though I heard Hann'yu plead with him. It took a long time to heal and was painful. I could barely eat for weeks. If Hann'yu hadn't been there to help me drink broth as I healed I probably would have died of starvation. After those long weeks in the infirmary, I knew Dayyid would always find a way to hurt me worse so I resolved never again. I needed to be Kahlil. It was the only way I could get away. So, I worked hard to get to Nayeshi. To get to you."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop him cutting you." John reached his arm around Kahlil's waist and squeezed.

"But you were." Kahlil kissed the top of John's head. "See, no scars." He tipped John's chin up.

"Not both times."

"Maybe it's for the best. If you'd always stopped it, we wouldn't be here now. I guess, I still don't exactly understand how time works. Ji might have known," Kahlil said wistfully, still missing her, even moreso because of how much she'd meant to John.

"Maybe it was just Parfir's will," John said, smiling.

"Oh are you getting religious? Have you finally started reading your own holy books?"

"No, I just thought it was a reason you might accept."

"I know the reason." Kahlil traced his thumb over John's jaw, still awed by how beautiful John's eyes were.

"What?" John asked softly.

"So I could do this." Khalil fitted his hand around the back of John's neck and pulled him in close, slanting his mouth over John's and kissing him until they were both breathless. "See," Kahlil said, breaking the kiss but keeping his face close to John's, "it has to always happen the way it did, so we could be here, together, forever."

"Forever," John whispered. "I wish we could be sure."

"I'm sure. You heard Rousma, and Saimura agrees with her, when she carved my bones it made them immortal. They just needed my blood for the spell and now they have my blood around them all the time." Khalil shrugged. 

It made sense to him, but then it was his body, he could feel it, feel that it was right. As long as the Rifter was in Basawar he would live and as long as the Rifter lived his Khalil would be with him. He did think it was more than the blood though. His connection to John had brought him back, kept him here. He wouldn't have it any other way. "You will never lose me again," he reassured John. "I have always been yours. My holy bones were born to be your Kahlil."

John kissed him this time, hard, but so full of love and longing that Kahlil let it draw out, sliding down a little and pressing against John's warm body, putting his hands under John's shirt, desperate to feel his skin.

"I wish I could kiss away every bad memory you have," John said, resting his forehead on Kahlil's when the kiss ended.

"We'll make a thousand better memories and then relive the best ones all again." Kahlil rolled John against him, under him, until his legs bracketed John's hips. "Let's start one now." Kahlil tugged at John's shirt, urging him to raise his arms so he could pull it off. "I can think of some things we've never done on a boat."

"Ship," John corrected.

"Just for that," Kahlil smirked, "we're going to start with something involving rope. And maybe a gag."

"If you gag me, how can I show what I can do with my mouth?" John asked, looking smug.

"I can think of some things that don't involve your mouth. Maybe I'll show you what I can do with mine." Kahlil reached for John's hands and tried to pin them above him while he closed his mouth over John's collarbone and set to making a memory that they would never forget.

_~finis~_


End file.
